


the almost lovers.  ( captain canary )

by joonslove



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Captain Canary, F/M, mainly about the two of them but there's others too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6843742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonslove/pseuds/joonslove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of drabbles and scribbles regarding either leonard snart, sara lance, or perhaps even the two of them together.<br/>updates whenever i can, but guaranteed on thursdays. feel free to give suggestions on what else to write in the comments !</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. see you on the flipside.

**Author's Note:**

> contains spoilers for 1x15, also known as "destiny".

 

> _"now tell me, what does dying feel like?  
>  "as if... everyone else are miles away."_  

 

he supposed that she was right. smart girl.

in his last few moments, leonard started to realize that everything he knew was so far away, so _lost_ to him in the end of time. sara, mick and the others were probably sailing away by now, attempting to scramble together a new plan before something messes up.

 _sara_ , he thought. he wanted to have a future with her, filled with playing card games and invoking bar fights and winning. such a shame that it was never to be, it was an _almost_.

words came back to him as time master druce called to him to release the fail-safe, to ruin the plan. _"i know that you could be a hero,"_ were words that barry allen utter to him last year in prison, before he decided to become a legend. barry seemed so... intent on molding leonard into some heroic figure, claiming to see the good in him, although leonard himself scoffed and commented: _"what's a hero's salary?"_

as he soon found out: they didn't want one.


	2. photograph of siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for episode 1x15, also known as "destiny".

he owned next to **nothing,** for a guy who preferred to _rob atms_ than _watch sports._

no one dared touched his room before he died, other than sara and mick. jax and ray were threatened, kendra and rip didn't care, martin could never remove the cold gun from leonard's leg to examine its parts _(he would always assure him that cisco was a smart guy)_ even if snart had died in his sleep. now, with leonard gone with the wind, even sara and mick refrained from entering his room because there was nothing to do in there other than grieve, and that was the last thing on their to-do list.

one could still peek inside, however, like sara did everyday since he kicked the bucket. she would be walking by and simply stare inside the room for a moment, but didn't bother to walk in. "i'm not ready yet," sara would tell herself, in a low voice, "i'm _sorry_."

at first glance, leonard's room was empty. a bed in the wall, a screen that pretended to be scenery but also acted as both a computer and television, a closet, etcera. there was a crevice next to the screen, however, with a framed photograph of two people smiling.

it took sara two weeks until she decided to finally walk inside and examine the photograph. the second she went in, there was an extreme cold wind that appeared in the room, causing her to mutter a curse and rub her arms in order to stay warm. midst the cold, a shivering hand reaches out for the photograph, for sara to take a closer look at it. it's leonard and lisa _(oh my, poor lisa, a little sister who'll weep for days to come when she finds out the news),_ but a bit younger— ten years or so. the duo were a bit shorter, leonard's hair slightly longer; but close siblings all the same. sara hugs the photograph, holding the only saved memory of him that she has in her arms.

had it been their first day of meeting, sara would've found it peculiar that leonard was sentimental about someone. after five months of being friends _(and five seconds of being... fools),_ it's not a surprise to her now. it was simply a reassurance that sara was right about snart: he's not such a bad person after all. he refrained to kill her when he easily can, and she knew.

she knew what kind of person leonard snart was, even if he himself was too chicken to say it. lisa knew, mick knew, the whole crew knew as well.

leonard snart was not a _criminal_ , not a _kleptomaniac_ or some cold hearted freak.

leonard snart was a **hero,** and sara lance knew it.


	3. properly buried.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sara decides to get over laurel and leonard.   
> ( spoilers for 1x15 and arrow. )

she needed a hug. oh, she definitely did.

the pitter patter of her tears are almost unheard, drowned out by the sniffles and the whines. she sat on the floor of the waverider, warmed by _his_ jacket and _her_ mask in her fingers. no one thought to bother her that day, with the exception of mick, who offered a cupcake.

she had lost the two of them, so quickly.

rip thought that the team would catch a break from mourning about leonard's death by bringing them back to their present in 2016, only for sara to find that her sister was dead as well. it was the _“we can't bring her back, sara"_ from her own father that took her over the edge, running back to the timeship to cry.

she wants to bring them back, everyone does, but they can't just raise people from the dead anymore— what with the lazarus pit destroyed _( and plus, she wouldn't ever want them to go what she went through )._ so sara huddles back into the warmth of leonard's jacket, laurel's mask on her face.

_she became the black canary because of me,_ sara thought to herself, _what do i do for her death?_

there was a feeling of wanting to mourn that always stayed with sara ever since leonard had given up his life, and it lingered when she found out about laurel, just when sara thought that she was finally getting over the previous' death. she wanted to give them a proper funeral, proper meaning the way that she would do it; her own way.

"gideon, do we have shovels? and a lighter." her voice was soft and low, squeaking from forcing herself to be isolated for a week— she stood up slowly, beginning to walk out of the waverider. "yes, ms. lance," gideon replied, "they should be in the supply closet." after a quick stop there, sara made her way outside.

next was hours of shoveling a hole, the jacket and mask still with her, wrapped around her like a hug from the two of them. when she was done, she finally took the two of them off for the first time, placing them in the pit. then, the lighter— she flicked it on, the embers small but burning— and lit both the jacket and mask on fire, taking a seat outside, watching the two articles burn as if it was a campfire and she was a girl scout.

she cried the whole time, of course, because sara had clung to them for so long; but she needed to get rid of them, to stop mourning and move on _( although she knew she would never truly do so )._ the fire eventually went out, the items charred and burned, beyond repair. by then, sara had stopped crying, and stood up, going back inside to her room in the waverider. just as usual, there were no weird or judging looks as she did so, only looks of sympathy.

she laid on her bed, and cried some more.   
there was no getting over them, she supposed.


End file.
